


Satiation

by CookiesVersusCream



Series: Making the Best of Our Situation [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Job, Bondage, Hair Pulling, Hand Job, M/M, Merle has both don't judge him okay?, PWP, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Size Difference, Tentacles, Throat Fucking, light dom/sub dynamic, please tell me if I left anything out!, punishment kink, well not technically but I'm gonna tag them anyways just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookiesVersusCream/pseuds/CookiesVersusCream
Summary: John survives, but the Hunger doesn't completely leave his body. But that's okay. He and Merle know how to put his... quirks to good use.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Your classic, self-indulgent John-survives-and-he-and-Merle-fuck au. I guess that I should add that in this au, John's body isn't completely rid of the Hunger, and it manifests when he feels extreme emotions such as excitement, anger, and... arousal. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I just wanted an excuse to write Merle fucking his monstrous bf. Anyways, enjoy!

John and Merle stumble into the bedroom, mouths interlocked, and Merle would be thinking about how it is a miracle that the other man managed to get the door open without dropping him. Would be, if he wasn’t preoccupied with more pressing matters. Like the sensation of John’s tongue pressing against his own.

John practically throws him onto the bed and pins him down, their mouths never separating. The kiss is just as vicious as John’s other actions, and Merle is so into it. They continue snogging each other’s faces off as he removes John’s shirt and John slips his fingers into his waistband. The moment lasts for what simultaneously seems like an eternity and not long enough, until John gently bites his lower lip and pulls back. He can’t help but be a little disappointed, but that feeling vanishes when he sees the sight above him.

John is panting, sweat covering his face and torso in a sheen. His normally immaculate hair is gathered in clumps – had Merle been pulling it during their makeout session? Whoops. Well, John didn’t seem to mind. Not at all, judging by the way his lips are curled into a smile, an expression of bliss with something darker lurking just underneath.

Best of all, his skin is cracked, veins of black and various other colors running across his body. The fissures are just barely there, as thin as strands of thread, but Merle knows he did good regardless. He is about to pull John back in for some more snogging, but the other man places a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Sorry, just give me a minute to... compose myself,” he pants, and Merle laughs.

“Babe, it’s fine,” he insists. Then the sensual tone to his voice returns as he says, “Besides, I want to go… further, tonight. If you catch my drift.”

John looks at him for a moment, then it clicks. The sultry undertone in his smile grows until it overtakes his entire face. “Oh? And just how far do you want to go?”

“All the way.”

Now it’s John’s turn to laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, that one time was absolutely phenomenal, but we had to buy a new mattress and bed frame afterwards. I know that money isn’t a concern, but the man at the store will look at us if we need to buy a bed for the second time in six months.”

“And the neighbors didn’t stop complaining about that ‘horrible howling noise’ for weeks!” Merle exclaimed. They both chuckled at that.

“But seriously,” John says, as soon as the moment of levity fades and Merle becomes aware of the erection pressing at his pants. “How far do you want to go?”

“Half way. Enough so that you can…”

“Got it. Just remember, if it becomes too much, don’t hesitate to use the safeword. Or gesture, if your mouth is covered.” John excuses himself to the bathroom. Merle takes off his shirt, and starts to undo his fly, but…

If John wants him that bad, then he’ll have to come and get him. He lies back down on the bed, pants still on.

When John emerges from the bathroom, he regrets not taking off his pants. John’s form has become so large can barely fit through the doorframe. The rifts of darkness had expanded into patches that cover about half his body. The sight alone would be enough to make him come, if he didn’t know that the fun was just about to start.

As John slowly approaches him, the patches of darkness shift. Tendrils surface and start snaking their way towards him. They tease him as soon as they make contact, gently tugging his hair, running down his chest, caressing his hips, rubbing that spot just behind the ear that he knows that John knows he can’t get enough of. He keens, and John finally, finally reaches him, towering above him by a good five and a half feet. “Come on, Merle, I know you’re better than this,” he goads with a smirk. Merle doesn’t respond, all of his attention diverted to John’s massive cock.

A tendril curls underneath Merle’s chin, forcing him to look up at John’s face. His expression is savage, and it sends shivers down Merle’s spine to his dick. Tendrils wrap around his body, holding him firmly enough to lift him but not enough to cause pain. John sits down on the bed, torso upright and legs separated. He places Merle in between them, and Merle immediately goes to kiss his inner thigh, sucking and nibbling, savoring John’s taste.

“So eager to please.” John says, his voice an octave lower than it normally is, and oh Gods it’s saturated with approval and praise and endearment and that is such a turn on. He lets Merle leave a line of hickeys that are going to make walking absolute hell the next day, then positions a tendril under Merle’s chin. Merle looks up, and his expression is nearly enough to make John melt. But Merle likes it rough, likes being told what to do, so John obliges. In the most stern voice he can muster, he says, “This is how this is going to work. If you satisfy me, you’ll be rewarded. If you don’t, then you’ll be punished. But knowing you, you’ll view that as a reward, you kinky fuck.”

He takes his member and shoves it into Merle’s already parted lips. It’s a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. His cock is so large that it couldn’t physically fit into Merle’s mouth, but Merle takes the head, running his tongue across the frenulum. John gasps, then moans, and Merle takes that as a sign to place his hand on John’s shaft and slide it up and down the hardening dick.

(His soulwood arm was haphazardly placed onto the kitchen counter, when they had started making out. Splinters, as they had learned, are a real mood killer.)

All the while, John is whispering sweet nothings. Tendrils wrap around Merle with reckless abandon, tugging at his hair roughly now. It’s clear that John wants Merle, all of Merle, and that’s okay because Merle wants all of John too.

“Gods Merle, you are so good, too good, and – fuck, just like that, more, more, I need–” By now, the tendrils have completely given up on subtlety, and were grinding against his the bulge created by his erect cock. It begs for relief, begs for John’s touch, but Merle ignores it, focusing on John instead. “I need you Merle, I need you so badly, I need your dick wrapped in my tendrils, Merle, why can’t I feel–”

Then everything stops. The tendrils released Merle from their grasp, and John pulled back. Merle lets John out of his mouth and smiles up at him, inky precum still glistening on his lips.

John’s eyes narrow. “You motherfucker. You’re wearing pants.”

“It certainly doesn’t seem as if my mother is the one I’m fucking right now.” Merle blinks, attempting to keep up the facade of innocence for as long as possible. Which, he predicts, will be anywhere from five to fifteen seconds.

“Oh Merle.” John’s voice is dripping with a sweet venom, and this is exactly what Merle wanted. “You know how much I love having you in my tendrils, all to myself.” John leans in, bringing his face closer to Merle’s. “I must say, Merle, I am… displeased, with your behavior.” His face is contorted into an sneer too wide to be humanly possible. Merle is distinctly aware of the razor sharp teeth inches away from his face, and his erection screams. “And if I am displeased, well, you know what that means.”

Everything resumes with the same abruptness with which it had paused. Tendrils spring into action, tying Merle’s hands behind his back, forcing him on his knees with his legs separated. They tear at his pants and boxers, and seconds later his clothing is nothing more than shreds of cloth strewn about the bed. The tendrils devour his cock, and Merle gasps as the sudden sensations of wetness and twisting. Before he can make another noise, a tendril is shoved down his throat. “Nuh-uh-uh,” John chastises, sounding quite content with himself. “You gave up that privilege.”

Whenever Merle’s hips buck, the tendrils around his body tighten, restraining him. This makes Merle moan, and the tendrils in his throat go deeper. They settle into a sort of rhythm, however ruthless as it may be, that crescendos when Merle comes. Seconds later, there is black ooze covering Merle’s chest and lap, as well as the sheets around him.

“Shit, sorry about that. I meant to be a bit… neater.”

Merle looks up at John, who is blushing; a stark contrast to the sexual, dominating behavior he was exhibiting just moments ago. That thought makes him laugh, and he sticks a finger that’s covered in John’s cum into his mouth, making a show of savoring and swallowing it. John gags, causing Merle to laugh even harder.

“You’re disgusting.” Despite the statement, John’s voice is full of fondness. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

“Why don’t you come and clean me up, big boy?” Merle asks. John groans.

“Because I already came once tonight, and we’re getting old.”

Merle grumbles something about John being no fun. John sticks out his tongue, unfurling all three feet of it completely. “That’s what I’m talking about,” Merle says with a wink, and he immediately sticks it back in his mouth.

Eventually, they both make it out of their bed. John removes the sheets, having reverted back to his human form, and they make their way into the bathroom. He throws them into the washer, but doesn’t bother with turning it on. They stumble into the shower and remain in there longer than they have to, enjoying the warm water and each other’s company.

“Are you sure I wasn’t to rough?” John asks. Merle shakes his head and lets out a small “mm”. “Are you sure?” John continues. But before John can say anything else, Merle nuzzles against his leg.

“ ‘m fine. You gotta stop being such a worrywort. It’ll kill you before…” Merle’s voice trails off. “Okay, so I didn’t exactly have a metaphor prepared. But if you’re dead, who will dote over me?”

John smiles. “Thought you just said you didn’t like the worrying.” Merle lets out a noncommittal grunt, and shifts even more of his weight onto him. “Alright, let’s get to bed,” John mutters to himself, suddenly aware of how his own exhaustion is weighing down his limbs and eyelids. He shuts off the water, and Merle attaches himself to John’s leg for heat. John drags him out of the shower, hands him a towel, then dries off himself. He grabs a new set of sheets from the closet, and when he gets to the bed, Merle is already asleep on it, naked, face buried into the mattress cover. John sighs, dropping the sheets on the floor, and curls up next to him. Making the bed can wait until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was my first time ever writing porn! I hope yall enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. As always, constructive criticism is always appreciated, especially since I am a) a cis girl, and b) a virgin. I have no clue how penises actually fuckin' work, my dudes.
> 
> In all seriousness, I have some ideas on how to expand on this au, and it's not all porn! (There's a lot of that too, though.) Please leave a comment if you would like to see more!
> 
> EDIT: Changed the title. "Making the Best of Our Situation" is now the name of the series. Apparently, I'm such trash that I'm writing multiple works now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small brain: Going to sleep because it's a Sunday night and you have class an exam at nine in the morning tomorrow.  
> Big brain: Writing Johnchurch porn as a means to relax.  
> Galaxy brain: Writing Johnchurch porn in order to avoid studying for said exam then dropping the class all together because you suck at coming up with effective coping mechanisms that would have prevented this entire situation in the first place.
> 
> But you guys aren't here for me to rant about my perpetual academic stress. So I present to you, two old men doing the nasty: the sequel.

Merle looks over his handiwork and lets out a satisfied sigh. The sight in front of him sends waves of heat through his body. He is distinctly aware of how it pools in his abdomen, so intense that it threatens to collapse on itself and implode; he can’t even begin to describe how badly he wants that to happen. But tonight isn’t about what he wants, so he refocuses on the task at hand. 

“Gods, you're so beautiful.” His voice is scarcely a whisper. He raises his voice slightly as he approaches the other man, murmuring, “You’re a gift, do you know that? I love you so much, especially when you’re like this. All wrapped up for me, like a Candlenights present.” Through lips curled in a reverent smile, voice now at speaking volume, he says, “And I’m going to take my sweet time opening you.” 

The other man whimpers when Merle finally reaches the bed he is laying on. His hips attempt to buck upwards, but are restrained by the rope tied around him in intricate knots. So fragile, Merle thinks to himself. The fact that the other man is partially transformed into an eldritch horror nearly three times his size is irrelevant; Merle lets himself indulge in his train of thought. If he touches him in just the right way, John will crumble in his hands like old clay. And fuck, Merle wants that so much.

The darkness that makes up John’s body shifts, forming into tendrils that reach for Merle and caress his face. Merle steps back, and John keens through the gag over his mouth. “Remember what we discussed,” Merle chides. His voice is gentle; he wants to remind John, not punish him. “We agreed that I would do all the touching tonight.” The tendrils respond, stopping then slowly submerging back into John’s body. “Good,” Merle says with a hum of approval. He resumes advancing towards John, perhaps a bit slower than either man would have liked. But that’s okay; neither of them have anywhere else to be.

Once he reaches John, his body is quivering. For not the first time, he recognizes how easy this all could be. He could take his lover in his mouth, or maybe his hand, and fuck him senseless. Then John would return the favor by inserting his tendrils into some choice places on Merle’s body. But Merle knows that good things come to those who wait, and it would be a shame if he didn’t make the most out of his hard work. So instead of fucking John senseless, he reaches for his face.

He lightly brushes his fingers against John’s forehead. Next, he runs his hands down John’s temple, rubbing his earlobe between his fingers as he breathes praise into his ear. He strokes John’s cheeks, revelling in the feeling of his lovers skin against his own. He curls his fingers under John’s chin, resting them their for a moment, allowing himself to fully experience his pure, utter adoration for John. He sucks on John’s lower lip, lavishing it with kisses and hickeys, noting the desire coursing through the other man’s body. When John convulses, Merle reassures him, telling how patient and good he’s being through heavy whispers.

Next, the neck. Merle relishes in John’s sensitivity to his touch, noting how John savors it. How John revels in his vulnerability, in his absolute trust in Merle. Merle is reminded of just how much John loves him, and just how much he loves John, and he expresses this love in every touch. He caresses every ridge and kisses every dip, burying his face between John’s veins and windpipe. He’s sure to spend a good minute sucking on that one spot right where the neck meets the collarbone, and John’s breath is hitched and irregular the entire time.

He climbs onto John’s chest, rubbing circles with his thumb and teasing the other man’s nipples with his tongue. He then crawls onto John’s abdomen, and John lets out a soft moan when Merle applies pressure to his stomach. He peppers kisses down John’s pelvic bone, stopping right before he reaches his cock. When John whimpers, he chuckles. “We’ll get there,” Merle tells him, then strokes his hip. If John’s breathless response is any sign, he’s fine with the delayed gratification. Or maybe it’s the gag that’s preventing any protest.

Either way, Merle can feel John melting around him, like wax from a lit candle. He wants to take that wax and sculpt this moment, with John in his entirety stretched out before him, moaning and pliant and Merle’s, all Merle’s. As he shaped John from this wax, he would be completely as Merle’s mercy; Merle’s whims and the movement of his hands would be the sole factors determining the shape of John’s cheekbones, the curve of his spine, the way his lips parted. But that’s okay, because Merle would treat this sculpture with only the utmost care and love, being sure that every movement he made while crafting would be perfect so that John would be perfect. Like he is in this moment, mewling as Merle removes his hand from his foot.

Merle forces himself to keep his hands off of John, letting the tension build up. He then walks to where John’s waist is, and waits a few seconds more before laying his hands on him. But once he does, he’s rewarded with what he’s been building up to all night. John tenses, then forces himself to relax, just to tense up again when Merle moves his hands up his shaft.

Merle feels a tap on his shoulder. When he looks up, he sees a tendril tapping the gag. While Merle loves John when he’s forced into submission, he would only do so if it makes his lover happy. He mutters an incantation, and the unties itself, falling to the floor. “Thanks–” John begins to say, but then sharply exhales as Merle mouths the tip of his cock. After a minute of Merle’s lips flitting on his dick, Merle raises his head. “No problem, babe.”

He then returns his hands to John’s base, and delights in John’s unrestricted cursing and moaning as he moves them up his shaft for a second time. He repeats this motion a few times, keeping a languid pace at first. But as John gets more hot and bothered, Merle can’t help but become excited. Soon enough, he has shedded every inhibition, every pretense of dragging things out, and is grinding his entire body against John’s cock. Given Merle’s laborious teasing, it doesn’t take him long to come, the contact of Merle’s body easing him through the orgasm.

John lets himself indulge in the following haze. The light feeling in his stomach, the complete and utter lack of urgency, the sensation of Merle pressed against him – it’s total perfection. He’s so content that he isn’t even upset as the feeling fades and he becomes aware of his surroundings. Black iridescent ooze covers the bed and drips onto the floor. That’s to be expected; what he wasn’t anticipating was the sound of Merle laughing.

“What’s so funny?” He asks. But as he looks at Merle, he starts laughing himself. 

Merle is absolutely covered. It’s a good thing he is naked; any clothes would be permanently stained black. It’s also going to take forever for Merle to wash out his beard – something that will lead to plenty of bitching in the near future for sure. But for now, John simply takes in the sight of Merle as the two men laugh.

The laughter subsides after a few minutes. “What did you find so funny?” Merle asks, once he catches his breath.

“You look ridiculous,” John simply responds, voice full of endearment. “You?”

“Gods, I don’t know. You were just so eager the entire time, and then you came so…” Merle waves his hands around, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

“Forcefully?”

“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. You’re just so perfect, I guess, and I don’t know how I got lucky enough to end up with you–”

“–Join a mission to explore the planar system, watch as I devour your homeworld, run from me for years, meet me in parley just to have me kill you on the spot, return to parley anyways, eventually call me out on my bullshit and desert me for thirty five years, then save my life when the eldritch entity I created tries to kill me?” John suggests.

Merle laughs again, and John couldn’t ever describe just how much he loves that sound with words, so instead he laughs along.

“So, are you going to untie me now?” John asks once the two are done laughing for the second time.

“Yeah, just let me do something first,” Merle replies. John is about to ask what he’s going to do, when Merle, hand still covered in cum, reaches for his own dick. He takes his it in his fist, sliding it up and down, eyelids fluttering, John’s name on his lips.

“Enjoying the show?” He asks, eyes closed.

“Yeah.” It’s all John can think of to say.

John’s modest approval is enough. Merle lets out a shout, then his hand is overflowing. He makes his way over to John, legs a bit unsteady, and kisses him on his lower lip. It’s gentle and chaste, and once again, John is struck by just how much he and Merle love each other, just how much they trust each other.

Merle, exhausted and exposed, leans up against John, and both men understand that this is what love is.


End file.
